I wish things were different in my life, I wish things could just be well-written for me by my favorite author. I wish my family life was complete and whole, rather than broken and messed-up. But, mostly, I wish I was someone different, a totally new person nobody knew, so I could make things be the way I want them to. But, I'm not that lucky, and no person gets everything they wish for out of life. Nobody walks down a clean path with no foot-prints. Everyone seems to take the beaten path of life. The path that travels through rows of broken trees from heartbreaks, wet mud from the tears that were, and still are being shed, people sitting on the sides, because they have no strength to continue, and the wind blowing, destroying the trails of the survivors of such a walk. This path leads to a happy ending, if you know how to obtain the courage and bravery to keep walking.

Thinking about this, can be terrible and frightening to the human minds. And even though we all know about this path that can take a millennium until someone reaches the very end, we all seem to follow the crowd. We all just want to fit in, and that can lead some of the brightest people to make decisions, that they may later regret in life. And even when you have the choice, you look at the two paths, side-by-side, looking at the footprints of the past wanders. And then you look at the clean path, were one or two have been, but you see no proof of those few. That's what makes you think about taking the beaten path, because you don't know if the clean one is safe or just "different". And even though I know this now, I didn't use to. It took me some time to put it together in my head that I could be something different, someone special, one who didn't follow the trends of her fellow classmates, or just someone that could be considered a role model for many ages to come.

But, I think I took the concept to serious and literal. I changed that summer, and maybe some of it was for the better, but it took a good deal of time to discover the good side to my many mistakes. And some help for a very interesting group of boys. This story I have told many times, but not in greater detail, only a short version that anyone person could understand. And I didn't mention names either. No one would believe me if I did. I don't even think you will. But, I have kept this hidden from so many people, it must get told. I want my friends, enemies, and family to know that I wasn't always the way I am today. I was a girl that nobody knew, that no one cared about. I was that girl in high school who the boys didn't want to date, who opened the doors for the girls with a glamorous and social lifestyle, and the girl who wrote songs and poetry about the life she knew she could never possess. I was, in one word, "different". And, I didn't like it, not one bit. Every fiber of my body wanted me to stand up to those people who judged me and tell them that I am something worth knowing, someone who is going to change the world, someone who can be different, but still the same.

So, let me start at the beginning, on June 13th, 1992. That was the day that yours truly was born. That was the day when my name was placed onto a legal document, Emilia Murphy Becks. Today, my family and friends call me Emily, or Giggly-Emily. Except for the people at school, who don't even know my name, or even care to learn it. I went through middle school known as the girl who fell in a bucket after the school's annual car wash to raise funds for some charity, that's when my nickname "Bucket Girl" came into effect. When junior high came, I thought things would be different and I could start fresh, and just be Emily. But, of course, that never happens for a no-life person such as me. That Halloween, during Tyler's 8th grade party, (which everyone was invited to or I wouldn't even be there) I totally tripped over a cord, and fell straight into the lap of Mitch Sanders, who just happened to be the most attractive basketball player in the entire grade. That night was when my nickname "Bone-Crushers" happens to be born, because I ended up sitting on Mitch's arm the wrong way, broke it, and 

was considered the reason why we lost the basketball champions that season. And high school is nothing better, because those people still remember the days when I made a fool of myself, instead of just putting them aside and forgetting them completely. Once in a while, when someone wants to get my attention, they still don't call me by my real name. Always by a nickname created back when we were young and foolish.

With my junior year coming up, I wanted to show people I am more then what meets the eye. I know I am more than a clumsy, nerdy girl. That person just needed to come out. So, summer was the best time to do it, to try and figure out who I am and what I needed to do to show everyone else in the world, or at least my school. I wouldn't be scared to show my vulnerable side, my weaker side. I needed to create a tough skin. With three months of time ahead of me, I knew I could do it. I set my goal to become a new version of Emily, a graceful, beautiful, confident teenager who wouldn't be afraid to talk to anyone or do anything. That journey started with a summer job, according to my mother. So, I would have to work on the summer goal, while busing tables at a local ice-cream shop. With my ripped, off the sale rack, Hollister Co. jeans, white t-shirt, and a pink apron on, that's when he walked in. When I started acting different, and being someone I actually wanted to be. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a Tuesday, June 13rd, at 1:43 in the afternoon, sunny with high pollen count and a temperature of 82 degrees. I knew I wasn't seeing things or that I wasn't dreaming, but at that very moment in time, Nick walked in. And not just any regular guy named Nick, but Nick, with the last name of Jonas.